


What I Think of You

by ira_fae



Series: Carnaval des Animaux (Carnival of Animals) [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Couch Cuddles, Family Angst, Figure Skater Sakusa Kiyoomi, M/M, Miya Atsumu is a Good Brother, POV Miya Atsumu, Sakusa Kiyoomi Just Wants Love, Sakusa Kiyoomi is Bad at Feelings, Suna Rintarou is a Shitty Boyfriend, figure skating AU, someone cuddle him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28439997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ira_fae/pseuds/ira_fae
Summary: Osamu has told him that he has a tendency to pull the knife out. He told Atsumu that sometimes people need the knife left in because otherwise, they’ll bleed out. When Atsumu only gave him a blank look Osamu explained further that when someone is letting Atsumu in, he grabs the first shiny thing he sees and yanks.“Leave the knife in, ‘Tsumu. It’s not yours to take out. You aren’t qualified to take care of the wound. Just leave it be.”Atsumu had told Osamu to shut the fuck up with his metaphors and finishing making dinner already.But, he did learn a valuable lesson.-What I Think of You; in which  Atsumu just wants the people around him (namely his brother and boyfriend) to be happy
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Series: Carnaval des Animaux (Carnival of Animals) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2049654
Comments: 8
Kudos: 87





	What I Think of You

**Author's Note:**

> this is part of a series but can be read as a standalone. 
> 
> atsumu really just wants omi and samu to be happy, that's all... he just doesn't have tact

When Atsumu enters Kiyoomi’s apartment, he doesn’t even see his boyfriend but he can feel the tension. He hangs up his coat, neatly slides his shoes onto the rack, pulls on his pair of slippers, and steps up past the genkan. 

“Omi-Omi?” 

Atsumu gets no response. Nothing is off about the apartment itself. The walls are still pristinely white. All the furniture is in the exact right spot. Kiyoomi’s coat is hung up neatly, his shoes are on the rack, perfectly symmetrical. Atsumu turns to look into the kitchen and dining area, but it’s empty. Spotless, and empty. 

“Omi?” 

There’s a distant thump that sounds like it came from the bedroom. Atsumu turns around and heads that way, his concern growing by the minute. He gently slides open the door to Kiyoomi’s bedroom and is shocked by what he sees. Kiyoomi is standing by the window, his arms crossed. His books have been spilled across the floor. His Grand Prix and Nationals medals are knocked askew, a couple having fallen completely off of the display. Kiyoomi’s bedcovers have been yanked off the bed and thrown haphazardly into the corner. 

“Kiyoomi?” Atsumu feels weird saying his full name instead of a nickname, but he sort of feels like this isn’t the time for cutesy nicknames. He steps further into the room. He spots Kiyoomi’s phone on the floor and after seeing its shattered screen Atsumu realizes what the thump was. 

“Kiyoomi, baby, you’re scaring me.” Atsumu picks up the shattered phone, hoping it’ll give him a clue. The phone lights up and through the cracks Atsumu sees himself sticking his tongue out, his right hand displaying a cute finger heart, his eyes squeezed closed. He forgot he even took that with Kiyoomi’s phone. 

“My sister called.”

Atsumu’s eyes widen and he snaps his head up to look at his boyfriend. He hasn’t moved, standing stock still, arms still crossed, his back to Atsumu. 

“Oh?” Atsumu asks softly. He’s not sure how much he’s going to be able to press this issue. Kiyoomi stands silently. Atsumu figures he won’t get any answers and starts working on cleaning up what seems to be the result of a tantrum. Atsumu really tries not to pry. He trusts Kiyoomi with every bone in his body and if Kiyoomi doesn’t want to talk about something, Atsumu won’t push him. 

But a phone call resulting in a tantrum? What did his sister say? 

The only things Atsumu knows about Sakusa Kanako is that she is four years older than Kiyoomi and he regards her as the human incarnation of the female snake demon Nure-onna. 

Atsumu has almost put all of the books back on the shelves before Kiyoomi speaks again. 

“She informed me that Mother would be disappointed in me. And that-” 

Kiyoomi cuts himself off and Atsumu just lets it hang there. He continues to reorganize Kiyoomi’s books.

Osamu has told him that he has a tendency to pull the knife out. He told Atsumu that sometimes people need the knife left in because otherwise, they’ll bleed out. When Atsumu only gave him a blank look Osamu explained further that when someone is letting Atsumu in, he grabs the first shiny thing he sees and  _ yanks. _

_ “Leave the knife in, ‘Tsumu. It’s not yours to take out. You aren’t qualified to take care of the wound. Just leave it be.” _

Atsumu had told Osamu to shut the fuck up with his metaphors and finishing making dinner already.

But, he did learn a valuable lesson. 

So, he just leaves that shiny knife, with the pretty label, ‘Mother’s Disappointed,’ inside of Kiyoomi’s chest even though he desperately wants to tug it out.

Atsumu doesn’t end up hearing the end of Kiyoomi’s sentence. He eventually starts helping Atsumu clean and his bedroom is back to normal in a relatively short amount of time. The only thing said between them is Kiyoomi asking if Atsumu will go with him to get a new phone. 

“Of course,” Atsumu says. Kiyoomi nods and exits the room quickly. Atsumu doesn’t comment on the redness of Kiyoomi’s eyes.

He just stays by his side, a firm rock that Omi can lean on. He stays quiet on the train, their pinkies linked. He stays still in the phone store, keeping his presence calm. He only gives Kiyoomi a gentle shoulder tap when the employee goes back to retrieve a new phone. 

Atsumu stays and he watches. He watches the way Kiyoomi crinkles his nose at children on the train, making his mask raise up a little. He watches the way Kiyoomi narrows his eyes at the employee. He watches the way Kiyoomi clenches his fist every so often. He keeps all this information in the center of his chest, as his own knife, with the pretty label, ‘Kiyoomi is Upset.’

But he heeds Osamu’s advice, and as they ride the train back to Kiyoomi’s apartment and he squeezes Atsumu’s pinky with his own… Atsumu knows he’s done the right thing. He keeps going once they’re back. He leads Kiyoomi to the couch, puts a cooking channel on the TV, and gently encourages Kiyoomi to set up his new phone. 

By the time the sun has gone down, Kiyoomi’s head is in his lap, his new phone is all set up (and put to the side), and Kiyoomi is sighing softly every so often. He does that when he wants to say something but is finding it hard to verbalize. 

Atsumu clicks the TV off. He pulls his own knife out. He may not be able to fix Kiyoomi’s but he can at least try to fix his own. 

“Kiyoomi, I love you. Nothing anyone says about you could change that. I’ve read terrible tabloid articles about you, I’ve read tweets that say some of the meanest shit I’ve ever seen about you. None of that changes my opinion. ‘Samu couldn’t even change my opinion. I mean… he loves you, more than me I think, but, what I mean is that I love you with every bit of me. And I desperately want to make you as happy as you make me. I don’t want to push you into something you don’t want to do, so I won’t even ask, but just know you can talk to me about anything.” 

It takes a moment for Kiyoomi to respond, “I think that’s the most you’ve ever said without making a terrible joke.” 

They don’t talk about it that night. Kiyoomi only softly asks if Atsumu will stay the night. He says yes because what the fuck else would he say and they fall asleep in each other’s arms, Kiyoomi’s face tucked into Atsumu’s neck. 

Atsumu wakes up alone, but he’s not surprised by this. He’s been with Kiyoomi for almost two years now. He knows how early Omi’s day starts. He rolls over, turning to look at the empty side of the bed where Kiyoomi sleeps. Atsumu smiles to himself a closes his eyes. He snuggles deeper into his pillow, wishing Kiyoomi were there to cuddle with. 

His gentle imaginings are interrupted by the ridiculously loud ringtone that Osamu programmed for himself into Atsumu’s phone. Atsumu snatches the device off the side table, accidentally yanking the charging cord with it. He glares at the phone as if it’s his twin brother. 

“What, ‘Samu?”

There is a chuckle, “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” it’s the gentle voice of Suna. Atsumu sits up quickly, eyes narrowing. “The wrong side of your boyfriend’s bed? According to your brother, if you spend the night with your boyfriend, you always wake up happy.”

“Suna?! I thought you were-”

Suna interrupts him, “Yes, I know. You thought I was Osamu. I called you from his phone. That’s kind of the point. He’s in the kitchen right now making breakfast. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Why didn’t you just call me from your phone?”

Suna chuckles again, “I didn’t think you’d pick up a phone call from me.” Atsumu clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes but he can’t help but internally agree. 

“And?”

“Well, Atsumu, I think I may have left a bitter taste in your mouth and I was hoping to smooth things over with you. I was going to do it last night but… Well, you weren’t here.” Atsumu resists the urge to grind his teeth at the smug tone in Suna’s voice. He’s definitely right about one thing, there  _ is  _ a bitter taste in his mouth. But it has nothing to do with ‘Samu’s shitty ass ex (well, maybe not ex any more) boyfriend.

“I don’t have time for this, Suna. I made it explicitly clear how I felt about you the last time I saw you. Get out of my apartment before I get back.” Atsumu hangs up the phone and has the urge to throw it against the wall like Omi did last night. He doesn’t. Instead, he checks the time and gets dressed. If he hurries he can catch Kiyoomi at the end of his practice for food. For Kiyoomi it’ll be lunch, for Atsumu it will be more like… brunch. He did sleep in a little later than planned. 

Before he leaves he makes sure everything is as tidy as can be. He even gives the bathroom counter a wipe down after he’s done brushing his teeth. Even after this long it still fills him with glee that he has a toothbrush here. As he leaves the apartment he locks the door with  _ his key. _ God, he loves loving Kiyoomi. He checks his watch and starts jogging. 

They don’t talk about it during lunch (brunch) either. Kiyoomi takes Atsumu to this place he goes to often and they chat about light topics. Like, how Atsumu’s middle school team is doing and how well he thinks they’ll fare in their next match. Atsumu doesn’t stick to that topic too long, not wanting to bore Kiyoomi. But he can tell by the semi-permanent crease in Kiyoomi’s brow that he’s not really listening to Atsumu. He’s okay with it, he knows that this is heavy. Kiyoomi eventually starts talking about his work out and Atsumu is more than happy to listen.

Atsumu is just sitting there, watching Kiyoomi. He’s talking about popping his quad axel now. Atsumu feels terrible that he isn’t really listening, but… He reaches across the table and grabs Kiyoomi’s hand. 

“I love you, Sakusa Kiyoomi.” 

There’s a pause. Kiyoomi looks confused. 

“I love you too, Atsumu.” He doesn’t continue talking right away, he gives Atsumu a long, appraising look. Having apparently found whatever he was looking for, Kiyoomi launches back into his story and Atsumu listens this time. 

They end up parting ways outside the restaurant. Atsumu watches Kiyoomi’s retreating figure, his own eyebrows creased. He really doesn’t want to push him, but if he keeps avoid it, Atsumu just might have to.

Kiyoomi tends to bottle his feelings and though Atsumu is wary of pulling the knife out he doesn’t want Kiyoomi to sit with it. 

When he opens the door to his apartment he searches the genkan for an unfamiliar pair of shoes. He doesn’t find any that look out of place so he toes off his own shoes and goes further in. Atsumu apparently needs to have a conversation with Osamu. Neither of them are going to like it. 

“‘Samu?” Atsumu huffs, listening for his brother’s response. There’s a thunk from his bedroom and Atsumu gets deja vu. He shakes his head and makes his way to Osamu’s bedroom. He pushes open the door and finds Osamu sheepishly shoving his futon into his closet. 

“H-hey, ‘Tsumu. What’s up?” Osamu tries to grin and Atsumu thinks this might be better if he awkwardly leaned against the squished futon with his elbow and tried to ‘act natural.’ 

“I had an interesting phone call this morning.” Atsumu crosses his arms, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes at his brother. Osamu’s eyebrows shoot up and he quickly looks at his futon, picking at non-existent fluff. 

“Oh?” he asks as if nothing is amiss. Atsumu sighs heavily and puts one of his hands over his face. He tries not to think about all the times Osamu cried into his chest and then vehemently denied that he was doing it. Or the times when Osamu gave him pleading looks, eyes filled with hope, mouth full of the word ‘change.’ 

“I just- ‘Samu, why?” 

Osamu has the decency to look ashamed. He blushes and pushes himself to standing, sighing as the futon spills back out of the closet. He gives it a half-hearted kick and steps closer to Atsumu. 

“He’s-”

“Changed?” Atsumu asks, venom creeping into his voice. Osamu looks wounded and Atsumu almost feels bad. 

“I just- Atsumu, please. He- He’s like no one else. And I just bumped into him. It’s not a big deal. And he does seem… different,” Osamu’s voice drops down to a whisper and he looks down at the floor. 

Atsumu reaches forward and yanks out the metaphorical knife, “He’s playing you, Osamu. If he didn’t change any of the times that he said he would during high school or university do you really think he’s changed now? I’m just tired, ‘Samu. I’m tired of tentatively giving my approval to then having to pick up the pieces of you. He’s not any different.” 

Osamu glares, “You don’t know that! You barely spoke to him!” 

Atsumu returns the glare, not backing down, “I don’t need to speak to him to know that! He’s a shitty guy, he’s always been a shitty guy! He just wants to fuck around with your dick and your heart for as long as you’ll let him! I’m- I don’t want you to get hurt. He always hurts you!” 

“This time it’ll be different!” 

“Oh?! Different like it was in second year? When he cheated on you with that girl from class three! Or do you mean different like it was in third year? When he ghosted you even though you were on the same goddamn volleyball team! Oh! I know! You must mean different like in our first year of university when he lied about loving you. That  _ must _ be it!” 

Osamu snarls. He steps forward and shoves Atsumu, who just corrects his stance and moves back toward Osamu and shoves back. Osamu steps forward again, ready to swing, but Atsumu grabs him by the shirt collar.

“Listen to me, I know you love him. I’ve always known that you love him. But he doesn’t love you and you just have to accept that. I’m sorry. I wish he did love you. I wish he was better. But he’s not! And you have to accept that or you’re going to spend the rest of your life chasing after a guy who couldn’t give two shits about you!” 

Osamu yanks out of his grip, his expression murderous, “Fuck you, Atsumu.” With that he shoves past him and Atsumu stands staring at Osamu’s futon, sadly hanging out of his closet until the front door slams. 

Well, Atsumu thinks, that could have gone better. Maybe he shouldn’t have yanked that hard. He just- Suna is and always has been the worst possible choice for Osamu. He’s a massive dickwad and uses every opportunity he can to hurt Osamu. But, Atsumu chose the wrong approach. He was harsh and blunt. 

He tried to close the wound with duct tape when he should have used a steady hand and delicate care. Atsumu sighs a long, anguished sound. 

All he really wants is for Osamu to be happy. 

Atsumu is glad for Kiyoomi’s invitation to spend the night again. He can’t bear to be in his and Osamu’s apartment knowing that ‘Samu isn’t there and is pissed at him. When he arrives Kiyoomi already has dinner cooked. Atsumu toes off his shoes and puts on his slippers quickly. He gently pads to the kitchen and wraps his arms around Kiyoomi, pressing his face into Kiyoomi’s shoulder blade.

“Hello, Atsumu. Is something wrong? You never usually enter this quietly.” 

Atsumu sighs into Kiyoomi’s back and pulls himself together. He releases his boyfriend who spins around to give him a concerned look. Atsumu shakes his head. 

“No, babe. Let’s just eat dinner, it smells amazing and I’m starving.” 

Kiyoomi nods and together they carry their dinner to the table. They don’t brush on any heavy topics during dinner, keeping their conversation light and happy. Atsumu has the pleasure to see Kiyoomi smile. Kiyoomi is delighted to hear Atsumu laugh.

But once they’ve cleared the table, washed up the dishes, and given the kitchen a quick cleaning, Kiyoomi seems almost tense. 

It’s Atsumu’s turn to ask, “Is something wrong, Omi-Omi?” Kiyoomi purses his lips and grabs Atsumu’s hand, leading him to the living room. They make themselves comfortable on the couch, Atsumu pulling his legs up to sit with them crossed. 

“I would like to speak with you about something,” Kiyoomi says softly and Atsumu’s eyes go to the metaphorical knife in Omi’s chest, still glinting mockingly at him. Atsumu controls himself though. 

“What is it?” 

Kiyoomi looks past Atsumu to the window, his eyes distant and unfocused. He can get this way sometimes, especially if the conversation is serious and something he doesn’t like. He almost… Atsumu might say he disassociates himself from the situation, but it’s more like he refuses to physically partake in the conversation. He will speak and eloquently give his piece, but he won’t look at anyone, he won’t make any gestures. 

“When… When Kanako called me she said some terrible things to me,” Kiyoomi swallows, and Atsumu reaches forward and gently picks up his hand, “You see… When my mother passed she- Well, she left me everything. Her house, her money, her- She gave it all to me. She didn’t give a single cent to Kanako or Katashi. Apparently, my Father has started to draft his will and he told Kanako that he would be giving me nothing. He would give everything to my sister and brother.” 

“Omi…” Atsumu whispers. He watches, his chest clenching, as Omi squeezes his eyes closed and gently shakes his head. 

“She informed me that my father considers me a disappointment as if I didn’t already know that. She also said-” Kiyoomi stifles a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sob, “she said that Mother would be disappointed in me and that I am wasting my inheritance by pursuing skating. Kanako said-” Kiyoomi does actually sob this time, a small, soft sound that shatters Atsumu’s hear, “s-said that I will ne-never be as successful as Mother wanted me to be and that by failing her I am disrespecting her legacy.” 

Atsumu can’t do anything but reach forward and gently wipe away Kiyoomi’s tears with his free hand. What on Earth could he say to that? Atsumu realizes he doesn’t need to say anything. He stands from the couch.

“I’ll be right back, Omi-Omi. Don’t go anywhere.” He hurries out of the living room and goes to Kiyoomi’s bedroom. It doesn’t take long for Atsumu to find the box. Kiyoomi hasn’t hidden it as well as he thinks he has. Atsumu almost leaves with just that one, but he doubles back, grabbing the plastic tub and dragging it out of the closet. He sets the wooden box on top of the plastic tub and carefully picks it up. He grunts with the effort of lifting the tub but he doesn’t want to drag it across Kiyoomi’s sparkling clean floor. 

He huffs as he makes his way to the living room, fingers beginning to ache as he steps across the threshold into the room. He moves to the couch and sets the tub down in front of it. He sighs heavily as he sits back in his spot. He takes a moment to catch his breath and Kiyoomi uses that time to wipe away his stray tears and stare curiously. 

Atsumu sets the wooden box on the coffee table and opens the tub. He sets the lid inside and gestures to the contents. He waits until Kiyoomi’s eyes are glancing over the sparkling trophies and medals that fill the tub. 

“Does this look like failure to you? Does this look like disappointment to you?” Atsumu asks. Kiyoomi doesn’t respond, he looks away, his cheeks burning red.

“Babe, look at me,” Atsumu says, picking up the first medal his hand touches, “I don’t even know what this medal says, Omi. Because it’s in  _ Russian. _ Because you went to Russia and won a gold medal for… God, uh… I’m gonna guess a Prix?”

Kiyoomi flushes even deeper, eyeing the medal. He whispers softly, “It was… It was the World Grand Prix.” Atsumu chuckles.

“Yes, sorry, my bad. And look how many more there are in here! And I know this isn’t all of them. How many tubs of awards and accolades and trophies do you have in storage?” Atsumj sets down the medal, gently putting it back in its place in the tub. He picks up the wooden box and holds it out for Kiyoomi. It takes a minute but eventually, Kiyoomi takes the hint and grabs the box. 

“Omi, before we met you went to the Olympics. You went and you won a silver medal, not just for yourself, but for all of Japan. And if she can’t appreciate that, your sister can fuck right off. I know for a fact that your mother would be so proud of you that she might burst. I know that you only have a few medals displayed because you think those are the only ones you actually deserve but… I hate to break it to you, Omi-kun, you deserve all of these. You deserve all of these and more. You deserve to go to the Olympics and win a gold medal. And I know you’re going to do it too. I know that you’re going to get up on that podium, you’re gonna kiss that medal and dedicate that moment to your mom. Because you are talented and amazing. You are not wasting anything. You are fulfilling a dream, your dream, the dream your mom never got to have.” Atsumu can’t continue because Kiyoomi practically tackles him into the couch, sobbing as he goes. 

Atsumu doesn’t know how long they stay like that, but eventually, Kiyoomi’s breathing evens out and he curls even tighter around Atsumu. He just gently brushes his fingers through Omi’s curls and keeps his own breathing steady and even. 

“It just hurts,” Kiyoomi whispers. 

Atsumu nods his head, “I’m sure. But you don’t need them. You have so many people who care about you and who are so, so proud of you.” 

Kiyoomi sighs softly, “Thank you, Atsumu.” 

“I love you, Omi-Omi.” 

“I love you.” 

Atsumu huffs. He glares down at his tea. He was hoping that getting a drink from one of the nearby vending machines would settle his anxiety, but the tea is only leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. He stands and disposes of it, frowning at the waste of money as it falls from his hand. As he walks back to the bench he was on his frown deepens. He meets the sleepy gaze of Suna Rintaro, who leans against the back of the bench, his legs crossed and one arm extended across the back. 

“How are you doing, Atsumu-san?” Suna’s mouth widens with a lazy grin and Atsumu has to resist the urge to sock him in the jaw. 

“Don’t patronize me, Suna. I don’t want small talk with you.” 

Suna sighs and sits up, “Alright. I get it. But, please, at least sit while we talk.” 

Atsumu sits down on the bench, an arm’s length away from Suna. He’s beginning to regret this. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, remembering that he’s doing this for ‘Samu. 

“I don’t trust you,” Atsumu starts, opening his eyes and turning a fiery gaze on the man who has broken his brother’s heart multiple times, “I think you’re a shitty guy and a shitty boyfriend. I would literally choose anyone else for Osamu. I’d honestly give up my own boyfriend if it meant ‘Samu wouldn’t get his heart broken again.” 

Suna nods, “I respect that. I cannot deny that your opinions of me are based on facts.” 

Atsumu narrows his eyes, Suna is being oddly compliant, “You… Ugh. I am literally only here because I care about Osamu, which I highly doubt that you share that. But… I do love my dumb brother, so,” Atsumu huffs, turning away from Suna, he doesn’t want to see the satisfaction on his face as he says, “I’m giving you one last chance.”

“Isn’t your brother supposed to make that decision?” Suna asks with a slightly playful tone. Atsumu whips his head around to glare at Suna with a look that could only be described as murderous. 

“No. Because he is so deeply in love with you that he would let you drag him to the top of Mount Fuji and leave him there to die,” Atsumu is glad to see Suna blush at that and look down at the ground. He  _ almost _ seems ashamed. “I’m going to give you another chance because ‘Samu seems to think you’ve actually changed this time. So, if you fuck this up… Just know that I am fully ready to hand your ass to you on a silver fucking platter, wrapped up like an ugly, untrustworthy, shitty little onigiri.” 

Suna snorts but when he looks up at Atsumu he has the decency to look serious, “I really do love him. And… I have changed, Atsumu-san. I want to be a better person for him. I want to- I want to make him happy, to have a future with him.” Atsumu leans in closer to Suna, desperately search for any sign of a lie. When he finds none he stands. 

“Alright, fine. But I’m fucking watching you, Suna. One toe across the line and I won’t hesitate to kick your ass to the curb.” 

Suna nods. Atsumu doesn’t let him say anything else. He walks away, pulling out his phone to send two texts. 

_ Atsumu: don’t let him hurt you samu you deserve better but i want you to be happy _

  
_ Atsumu: omi-omi, i need cuddles  _ _ (◕‸ ◕✿) _

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumblr [@ira-fae](https://ira-fae.tumblr.com/)  
> come yell at me on twitter [@ira-fae](https://twitter.com/ira_fae_)


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